


Magic

by ShadowSelene (Shadowdianne)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 13:08:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16285169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowdianne/pseuds/ShadowSelene
Summary: “Can I have a wand too?”Asked by delirious-comfort back at tumblr“Impossible.” She heard her say.She didn’t have the possibility to ask her, as unconsciousness struck, darkness enveloping her as a second scream rose into the air.When she opened her eyes again, Regina’s brown eyes were the first thing she saw, eyes that glinted and glowed as Henry run to her side, barreling into her.“You have magic?”





	Magic

_“Can I have a wand too?”_

Emma remembered the first time she had asked that, only eight and already having seen enough of the system to speak in hushed tones, eyes pleading but never too much, hands reaching above but never too obvious.

The woman who had taken her in, sweeter than most but never too sweet, never too warm, had merely said that she was still young, that she still couldn’t wield one. And Emma had heard the hidden worry beneath the words, promptly making her look away, at the dusty corners of the shop in where her foster brother kept on bouncing, trying wand after wand.

Emma had left the alley with blotchy cheeks and a sigh on her lips, wishing to be able to create the sparks and small hexes that had made so many former foster parents prouder of the other kids. She, however, couldn’t do that and, as such, she merely eyed her foster brother as he brandished his new wand; colors and sounds coming out of it every time he moved it.

She didn’t get to see him go to the School, however, even if she spent the next couple of weeks asking him everything about the magic world, the one she knew about but never truly saw aside from the magic she could see made by the ones in the system; promises of what others could do but never her.

Two days before he was sent to the school, she got into trouble after punching a kid: mud blood, squib, the words ricocheting inside of her as the boy’s nose cracked against her fist. She was sent to a home that very same night and the never saw her foster brother again.

And so, she kept on trying to make her own wand with sticks every time she thought she wasn’t being watched. It never worked; the sticks too short, too thick, too brittle.

By the time her 11th birthday rolled by, she had already realized that the words were right, were true for her. She didn’t ask for a wand that year, nor for a letter in bright green ink. However, it still hurt when the date came and passed, not a single owl cheeping at her window by the end of the day.

That very same month she was moved out of the magical system, relocated to a muggle-born one. She was never explained why, but she knew enough, was old enough, to understand after all.

No one wanted to have an un-magical child on a magical world.

She, eventually, grew out of everything, running away and not looking back, trying to feign indifference whenever she saw wands and magic, creatures and spells she wasn’t supposed to be able to recognize. Until, at 28, she was met with a child that vowed to be hers and, even if she had tried to forget how and where that had happened, she could see Neal’s eyes on him, on his cheeks and chin.

When she delivered him back to his mother, she felt the electricity on the air before the woman opened the door of the house, strong and vibrant power running down her body like a mantle made out of sparks. Purple and black on her eyes, the brunette rushed towards the boy, hugging him close as he moved away, declaring that he had found his real mother.

And Emma… well, Emma could only feel breathless, never once having felt such power, alluring in the way it was unapologetic, conscious, strong. She breathed out a “Hi” that got trapped on her tongue the moment the other woman turned to look at her, part of the magic getting stronger, coating her lips and nose in a sweet scent that made her sway.

She saw the woman as what she was; a sorceress, a witch, and the woman saw only a muggle when looking back at her. And Emma longed for the brunette to see her, really see her. She didn’t dare, however, and so she played as if the magic she still could feel in the air wasn’t there, and the way the house felt alive in ways only magic could make wasn’t something she could perceive.

Because that had been her undoing once, what she had tried to forget about herself time and time again; her ability to sense, to feel, when magic was around, close enough to make her skin prickle. That had been the reason why the system had left her around until her eleventh birthday had passed; to see if that ability meant something, truly something.

Sometimes, she had wished for them to have given her a potion, to have hexed her, so she could forget.

Regina’s magic, however, was something different and far more intoxicating, enough for her to stay around, even when the woman fought her, the possibility of learning to know about Henry the other deciding factor for her to ask for a room at the dinner, eyes narrowing as she saw the glowing power of both granny and Ruby.

And then those first weeks turned into months, and those months transformed Storybrooke from a place to stay for a while into something strange she could almost call “home”.

So when Regina’s mother appeared, darkness on her eyes and nothing but murder threatening to swallow the whole town she put herself in front of the other woman, protecting both child and mother, trying not to look at Regina’s eyes, fearing when the realization will hit. And, as she foolishly forgot that she was human, a squib, she closed her eyes and stood in front of the ones she had learnt to love, heart bursting and magic filling her as Cora’s anger hit her, cutting into her skin.

She didn’t die that night.

She stumbled and fell to her knees, opening her eyes and nausea making her swallow and gag as she felt the debilitating power of the curse eating at her insides, a scream of pure horror at her back and the flurry of purple illuminating the suddenly starry sky as Cora’s own eyes widened.

“Impossible.” She heard her say.

She didn’t have the possibility to ask her, as unconsciousness struck, darkness enveloping her as a second scream rose into the air.

When she opened her eyes again, Regina’s brown eyes were the first thing she saw, eyes that glinted and glowed as Henry run to her side, barreling into her.

“You have magic?”

And Emma, who had been the child left alone and aside, who haven’t had a wand and who had tried too hard for too long to feel like she belonged, could only laugh. Because she had heard the stories; stories about love and sacrifice, about those who had been able to protect, to defend the ones they loved.

And she felt like a little girl again; asking for a wand as she smiled, the pull on her lips turning into a sigh.

“I don’t know.”

Regina’s answer was simple, far simpler than what she had recieved back in time.

“Let me teach you.”


End file.
